


And The Stars Look Very Different Today

by Mija



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Cuddling, Friendship, Gen, Hurt Bones, M/M, One Shot, Stranded on an unknown planet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-27 06:49:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7607995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mija/pseuds/Mija
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s just another day, another planet, another mission gone wrong – but as long as Spock stays by his side and as long as the stars are shining above them, Leonard knows that he’ll be safe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And The Stars Look Very Different Today

**Author's Note:**

> Just some fuzzy thoughts ... Can be read as pre-slash, I suppose. English isn’t my first language – feel free to let me know if you spot any mistakes!

From his position, Leonard can see the stars.

He’s crouched against the wall of the narrow gap in the rocks in which Spock dumped him and which really isn’t among the best places you could use for shelter but still better than nothing; and at least it allows him to see the stars. Billions of stars, not yet dulled by the light pollution that goes along with the development of nearly every intelligent species, forming a sparkling net above them, unfamiliar and oddly familiar at the same time ...

He doesn’t remember the name of the planet on which they crash-landed about a small eternity ago, he doesn’t remember much of the shuttle accident either, and he doesn’t even remember why they left the relative safety of the Enterprise to examine this wasteland of rocks and potentially dangerous plants in the first place. It doesn’t really matter – it’s just another day, another godforsaken planet, another mission gone wrong, that’s all that there is to know.

Of course the shuttle malfunctioned halfway to their destination, of course he managed to get hurt, of course his medkit was smashed so that he can’t even treat himself like any decent doctor would, and _of course_ he has to be stuck here with Spock of all people. Spock who thankfully isn’t injured except for a nasty cut across his left temple, Spock who kneels down in front of him after returning from yet another unsuccessful attempt to contact the _Enterprise_.

Squinting, Leonard turns his head. He immediately regrets the movement as another blinding flash of pain cuts through his instable consciousness. Damn perceptive as he is, Spock notices, of course.

“Doctor, you are severely injured. Please refrain from moving until we can provide you with medical attention,” he says, and Leonard can’t tell if he’s simply bored or actually worried.

He’d laugh if he weren’t so tired. _Don’t move_ , yeah, how is he supposed to move as much as a finger when he can’t even _feel_ his body, when his consciousness seems like a balloon, attached to him with only a thin cord, ready to float away any moment? Even the pain fades away much too quickly, leaving nothing but a dangerously light-headed feeling of emptiness.

The doctor inside him knows that his condition is critical, the fact that he is feeling so numb is alarming ... but he’s just too tired to care, so he shuts the doctor up and tries to concentrate on the Vulcan that blocks his view.

“Move aside, Spock, I can’t see the stars with you loomin’ over me like that.”

Spock doesn’t comply. He merely moves closer, so close that Leonard can nearly feel his breath on his skin when Spock speaks again.

“I believe that there are more important issues at hand than watching the stars, doctor.”

Leonard doesn’t answer. For once, he’s not in the mood to tease Spock for whatever reason he might come up with; thinking is hard and managing a coherent sentence is even harder, and all he can do is stare at the night sky and let his mind wander.

The stars blink down at him and even here, at the back of beyond, they radiate reassurance. He loved stargazing when he was a kid, back then when he never pictured that he’d once travel among them. He spent countless hours lying flat on his back in the garden, staring up at the sky until his mother found him and chewed him out for being out and about while he should be asleep ...

His fascination hasn’t vanished over the years. Watching the stars from one of the observation decks always calms him down after a long and stressful day; and it doesn’t matter if the constellations are not the same as the ones he could see in Georgia. Even if the stars form nothing but incomprehensive patterns and pictures, the fact that they are _there_ , unwavering until the end of time, is enough.

He tears his gaze away from the sky, trying to focus upon what is a rather disapproving Vulcan.

“Tell me, Spock, what were the stars on Vulcan like?”

He’d later blame the blood loss for this question – talking about something like that with a Vulcan, seriously, McCoy? He’s probably just getting delirious.

It doesn’t surprise him that Spock takes a few moments to ponder on this particularly illogical human sentiment.

“The stellar constellations were different than the ones you can see from Earth, if this is what you are aiming at,” he finally answers in his best _holy-mother-of-Surak-why-me_ -voice. Leonard blindly reaches out for him, feeling the need to physically make Spock understand; he somehow thinks that it’s _important_. Maybe he _is_ getting delirious.

Surprisingly, Spock doesn’t pull away from his touch.

“I know, and I don’t care about the damn constellations. The stars, Spock, what did the stars on Vulcan _feel_ like?”

His accent is becoming thicker with every word, and again he doesn’t care. If Spock wants to understand him, he _will_ , no matter which language he speaks; and anyway, by now they know each other well enough to allow Spock to read him so easily that it’s close to being embarrassing.

“You cannot _feel_ the stars, doctor,” Spock says softly, and Leonard feels a twinge of disappointment. Well, what did he expect? That an unexpected crash on an uncharted planet would make Spock loosen up?

“Gee, did your mom never went stargazing with you when you were little?”

_Your mom_. It’s a dangerous topic and he immediately regrets the words; and he regrets his faint outburst of temper – it’s really not the time for that, McCoy – even more when Spock answers, perfectly calmly but with that barely noticeable hint of sadness that tells Leonard he’s involuntarily gotten under Spock’s skin.

“She did, in fact.”

He doesn’t know what to reply, so he decides to keep his big mouth shut and slide back into self-pity mode. They crashed and he’s hurt and cold and he still clutches Spock’s arm and Spock still doesn’t back away and that distracts him more than he’d ever admit to a soul.

He shivers and he doesn’t know whether it’s with cold or something different, something more dangerous. Spock notices, of course, and his solution is both effective and awkward. He shuffles his weight and the next thing Leonard knows is that Spock has moved behind him und pulled him backwards so that he rests against the First Officer’s chest instead of the cool rock.

Well, so much for the oversized Vulcan need for personal space.

They breathe in the same rhythm for a few precious moments, and Leonard can feel some of his unnoticed tension melt. He instinctively drops his head on Spock’s shoulder, and he is too busy soaking up Spock’s body warmth to be embarrassed because of the sigh that escapes his lips.

“You don’t have to do that,” he murmurs, interrupting a silence that is about to turn from vague familiarity to a rather uncomfortable uncertainty.

The answer he receives is not at all what he wants to hear.

“It is logical to keep you as comfortable as possible until help arrives.”

Leonard suppresses another sigh. _Here we go again_. It’s freezing on this world, so _of course_ it’s perfectly logical for Spock to make sure that the injured CMO doesn’t freeze to death, isn’t it? _Logical_ , nothing more.

But there again, he is in no position to argue, and _wishing_ and _pretending_ won’t change anything, so he decides to just accept it without wondering about the implications and possibilities and unrealizable dreams.

And he really can’t complain, can he? Not when Spock wraps an arm around his chest to pull him even closer, and not when Spock’s cold fingers brush against his cheek and he feels _calm_ and _rest_ and _warmth_ float into his mind, along with some other thoughts that are blurry around the edges but still clear enough to grasp – something along the lines of _Do not worry, Leonard, I am here_ and _It will be alright_.

He just hopes that Jim will get them out of here before he can embarrass himself further by thinking that he actually _enjoys_ the hobgoblin’s touch, the warmth of his body, the slender fingers stroking gently through his hair ... And Spock certainly can’t tell him that _this_ is also part of “keeping you comfortable”, now can he?

“I hope Uhura never finds out about this,” he mumbles in an awkward attempt to restore the fragile balance between constant bickering and caring too much that passes as normal for them.

“She will not,” Spock replies and although Leonard can’t see his face, he knows that Spock is smiling his Vulcan _non-smile_. It’s right there in his voice, plain as raindrops sparkling in the sun after a brief rainstorm, plain as the stars above them.

The stars ... they are one of the few constants in his life, and they greet him like old friends whenever he takes a look at them. And yet ...

“The stars look different today, don’t they?” The words leave his mouth before he knows that he’s going to say them, and suddenly there’s a tune unfolding inside his head, a very old song he heard a long, long time ago ... _Planet Earth is blue and there’s nothing I can do ..._

He doesn’t know why he remembers just now, and it’s not important anyway.

“They certainly do, doctor.” – And yep, now there’s definitely sadness in Spock’s voice ... and regret?

Leonard understands, oh yes, he does. The _Enterprise_ will find them and everything will be okay, and they’ll get back to the insanity called _life_ aboard that glorious tin can, and they won’t ever speak again of the precious hours they spent cuddled together in a gap in the rocks on a lonely planet, just him and Spock and the stars and the knowledge that sometimes _wishing_ and _pretending_ is enough.

He knows that he should be worried because of his injuries, he knows that he should be frightened, but he can’t – not as long as Spock stays by his side, and not as long as the stars are shining above them.

As long as the stars are there, he’ll be safe.

**Author's Note:**

> The song mentioned is “Space Oddity” by David Bowie.


End file.
